


what you want

by SydneyHorses



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Hook-Up, M/M, Praise Kink, hints of D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25663924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydneyHorses/pseuds/SydneyHorses
Summary: No matter what he does, Sylvain can't stop thinking about Felix. Finally, he caves and texts him, hoping that his slowly developing feelings are nothing more than a desire for a warm body.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	what you want

**Author's Note:**

> a sequel of sorts to [What You Need](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25405861) , but that's not at all required reading for this! 
> 
> anyways a horny trucker au is something that can actually be so personal. look out for a possible part 3? hope you enjoy!

Sylvain’s been in Fhirdiad for three days when he realizes he wants to text Felix. He’d like to lie and say that he’s mostly forgotten about him, but the hickey on the back of his neck hasn’t faded, and neither have his memories.

He stares at the contact information in his phone, contemplating whether or not he wants to call Felix. Ideally, the other man would text first, and Sylvain would be able to tease him for it while simultaneously getting what he wants. But instead, there’s been only a few scare texts between the two of them, nothing near enough to satiate the hungry feeling in Sylvain’s stomach.

The worst part of it is that Sylvain thinks he might like him. It’s ridiculous; one fuck in a parking lot is nowhere near enough to get to know someone. He’s just horny, that’s all.

Twenty minutes later, and his mind hasn’t changed. Sylvain sits on the edge of his bed holding his cell phone in his hands and staring despondently down at it. He sighs and then types out a quick message to Felix.

Sylvain: u busy tonight

The response comes almost instantly, and Sylvain bites back a grin. Clearly he isn’t the only one that’s been feeling some sort of way. 

Felix: your place or mine 

That’s it? No leadup or small talk? Man, where the fuck has Felix been hiding all these years? He’s perfect. Sylvain casts his gaze around his apartment. It’s spotless, and even if it’s a little sparsely furnished, he has a nice bed and good sheets. Also, it’d be cool not to be the one doing the walk of shame for once.

Sylvain: mine

He texts Felix his address, then tosses his phone on the counter and heads over to the shower, getting himself a little cleaned up. The last time they hooked up had been while Sylvain was in the middle of a huge haul, so he’s determined to look more appealing this time. Although, to be fair, Felix hadn’t exactly seemed to mind.

All too soon, Sylvain is out of the shower and answering a knock at the door. “Hey handsome.” He opens the door and grins down at Felix, drinking in his inky black hair and piercing amber eyes. 

Felix rolls his eyes and shoves past Sylvain into the apartment. “Nice place you got here.” He picks up a little horse statuette Ingrid bought him as a housewarming present and examines it, turning it this way and that in his hand before setting it down. It’s not in precisely the same spot, and Sylvain reaches out to adjust it without thinking.

He looks back over at Felix when he finishes, and there’s a soft smile on the other man’s face, one that’s quickly wiped away when Felix catches Sylvain staring. Sylvain closes the door. “Hey.”

Felix crosses his arms. “Hey.” He steps closer to Sylvain, closes the distance between them, and reaches up to kiss him.

Sylvain wasn’t expecting it, but he leans into the kiss nonetheless, bending down to press firm lips against Felix’s. Now that they’re not both exhausted and stupidly desperate, Sylvain realizes that Felix is actually a pretty good kisser. He brings a hand up to rest on Sylvain’s jaw, his touch firm and unyielding. Normally Sylvain is the one who ends up taking the lead, but Felix is directed and clear, and Sylvain finds himself melting into the touch.

Felix takes another step forward, pushing Sylvain up against his door. They break apart for a moment, and Sylvain smiles down at him. “You’re pretty easy, huh?”

Felix rolls his eyes. “You texted me.”

“Mmm,” Sylvain hums. “You’re the one who assumed. Maybe I just wanted to chat.” Felix slides his leg between Sylvain’s thighs. “Do you?”

Sylvain grins. “No.”

Felix lets out a quiet little huff of laughter and kisses Sylvain again. It’s slower, almost lazy, and Sylvain curls his tongue into Felix’s mouth almost as an afterthought. It’s been awhile since he’s had a non-frantic hookup. It’s kind of nice, to have a moment to catch his breath. Sylvain’s hand rests on the small of Felix’s back, holding him closer.

They break apart again, and Felix dips his head into the hollow of Sylvain’s throat, worrying the skin there between his teeth. Sylvain’s breath hitches, and his hand curls tighter around Felix’s back. “Fuck, that’s good,”

Felix lifts his hand, a smug smile on his face. “I bet your old hickies haven’t even faded yet.”

Sylvain laughs. “No, they haven’t.”

Felix lifts his hand to cup Sylvain’s jaw. “Good.” 

Sylvain isn’t able to stop the shudder that goes through him at Felix’s words. “Do you want to see the rest of the apartment?”

Felix tilts his head to the side. “Just the bedroom, really.”

Sylvain winks. Felix scoffs, but Sylvain sees the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He takes Felix’s hand and leads him through the apartment, past the kitchen and into his bedroom. Once inside, he drops his hand, and turns to face Felix.

“How do you want me?” Sylvain asks, breathless.

Felix hums. He reaches out and sets a hand in Sylvain’s hair, grounded and determined. “Last time I could barely see a thing. I want you on the bed before me. I’ll take you apart, and this time,” he tugs sharply at the roots of Sylvain’s hair, and Sylvain’s breath hitches, “I’ll take my time.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain says, already feeling himself sink into a vague sense of ease. For once, the incessant buzzing in his head quiets down, gone in the way that it only ever is on the open road. He’s tried to explain it to Ingrid before, tried to put into words the way an endless expanse of highway settles him, but there isn’t anything he can say.

This is the same: going where Felix tells him, shivering as his shirt is stripped off of him and as Felix’s fingers trace the curve of his spine. Sylvain’s eyes slip shut as Felix pushes him down onto the mattress. He’s on his stomach, and Felix’s fingers are gentle as they roam over his back. It’s not like last time. There’s not the same hard, desperate edge to their movements, and Sylvain doesn’t know whether or not that’s a blessing.

“Hey, are you… okay?” Felix’s voice feels as though it’s a world away, and it takes a moment for Sylvain to process what he’s saying. 

He moves his head to the side, resting his cheek on the sheets of the bed. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Felix shrugs. “You got quiet. You were really loud last time.”

Oh. Sylvain doesn’t know how to explain that he’s always loud, but that him being quiet means more. He’s loud when he enjoys things - isn’t everyone? - but he’s quieter when he’s into it, when the fog of his brain relents and lets him settle into a quiet, peaceful space. He likes it there, likes the silence that comes with it. “I’m good,” he says at last. 

Felix scowls. “You sure?”

Sylvain lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I’m sure. Stop asking stupid questions.”

“Oh shut up.” There isn’t any heat behind Felix’s words, and he swats lightly at Sylvain’s ass.

Partially for show, and partially to see if Felix will do it again, Sylvain lets out a breathy sigh and spreads his legs. Behind him, Felix tsks. “You really are desperate for it, huh?”

Felix wants him to talk. Right. He can do that. “Yeah.” Sylvain presses his face deeper into the mattress, and Felix chuckles softly. 

“Well? What do you want?”

Sylvain shrugs and lets his eyes close again. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

Felix slaps his ass a little harder, with a little more force behind it. This time, Sylvain’s surprised grunt isn’t for show, and neither is the way in which he squirms impatiently. “That’s not a proper answer,” Felix snaps.

Sylvain can’t contain the whole body shudder that goes through him at the disdain in Felix’s voice. “Sorry,” he gasps, curling fingers into the sheets. He’s so caught up in himself that he nearly misses the quiet, almost amused, ‘huh’ that Felix lets out. Sylvain takes a deep breath and forces his thoughts into some sort of order. “I want you to fuck me,” he manages at last.

“Mm.” Felix seems hell-bent on ruining Sylvain. “I suppose. If you’re good.”

“You know I will be.” Sylvain’s voice is desperate, pleading, taken apart by a few half-hearted smacks and a dozen or so well-placed words. Pathetic.

“Yeah.” Felix’s voice softens, and despite the fact that this is only the second time, Sylvain feels a flutter of something akin to happiness go through him at Felix's voice. This is stupid. It’s too much, too soon, and he’s not going to do a single thing to change it. “Where do you keep supplies?”

“Bedside table. Second drawer.”

Felix soothes a hand down Sylvain’s bare back. “Good.” Sylvain sighs and relaxes into the mattress, his brain for once blissfully quiet.

Felix returns moments later, the bed dipping under his weight. He tugs at Sylvain’s sweatpants, and Sylvain lifts his hips so that Felix can strip him easier. 

The first finger feels like nothing at all, and Sylvain pushes back against Felix’s hand after mere moments have passed. Felix laughs, and Sylvain rolls his hips, trying to get any sort of friction at all. “Stop that,” Felix says.

Sylvain’s body reacts faster than his mind, and he freezes. “Good boy,” Felix says softly, almost like a lover would.

Sylvain’s mind goes something akin to blank after that, everything in his world narrowed down to the press of Felix’s fingers inside of him. Unlike last time, they have as much time as they want to take, and Felix seems determined to use that fact to its full extent. He opens Sylvain up slowly, crooking his fingers just so and not moving on until Sylvain is practically sobbing underneath him.

When Felix finally pushes inside of him, Sylvain could weep from relief, going pliant and boneless underneath Felix’s shallow thrusts. Finally, Felix bottoms out, pressing a hand down onto his back before pulling back and starting to fuck Sylvain in earnest.

The angle is good, deep. Felix reaches up and rests a hand on the back of Sylvain’s neck. The pressure forces him further down into the mattress, and Felix’s fingers are tight, commanding. A groan falls from Sylvain’s mouth, one that has nothing to do with Felix inside him and everything to do with the vice-like grip on his neck.

Felix’s fingers creep just slightly to the side, digging sharply into the hickey he left there only days ago.

Sylvain’s breath hitches, and he squirms, arching upwards into Felix, meeting his thrusts as best he can. Felix laughs; the sound is so low and delicious that Sylvain writhes further, trying desperately to move somewhere.

Felix’s grip on the back of his neck is like iron though, and as he’s pressed further into the mattress Sylvain can do nothing but lie there and take what he’s given. Felix’s thrusts are hard and fast, and Sylvain lets out a broken cry as Felix strikes true, hitting his prostate and ripping a cry from his mouth.

He wants - to move, to touch himself or at the very least rub off onto the mattress like the desperate thing Felix has turned him into.

“Fuck,” Felix swears above him, his free hand coming up to tangle in Sylvain’s hair. “Goddess, you’re so fucking tight. Sylvain-”

Sylvain wants to beg, or to ask Felix to at the very least tell him if he’s good, but there aren’t any words. He can’t speak, can’t think of anything but the rough drag of Felix’s cock inside him. A particularly deep thrust wrenches a moan from his lips, and Felix tugs tightly at his hair. “Good boy.”

Sylvain bucks his hips into the mattress, and Felix laughs, snapping his hips forward brutally hard. “Someday, I think I’ll make you come just from that. I’ll tie you up and see how much you can take. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Sylvain’s breath hitches, and another punched out groan falls from his lips. Felix stops, going still and tightening his grip on Sylvain’s hair almost painfully so, lifting his head off the mattress slightly. “Well? Do you want that?”

Felix likes it when he talks, Sylvain is starting to realize. If only his brain knew how to form words. “Yeah,” he manages at last. “Please.”

Felix lets go of his hair, and Sylvain’s head falls back to the mattress with a soft thump. “Good.”

Sylvain whines again, and Felix rewards him with a sharp snap of his hips. “Do you think you could come just from my cock?”

Sylvain doesn’t think he can, has never in fact been able to do so before despite the fact that other people have tried. He wants to though, so badly that he feels as if he could choke on it. He moans instead, any words he might have been trying to say garbled and lost in his haze of lust. Felix’s hand on the back of his neck loosens, each thrust sending Sylvain grinding down onto his mattress. The pressure is so good he thinks he could cry, and when Felix rakes his fingernails harshly down Sylvain’s back, he does just that, letting out a broken cry that turns into a moan when Felix does it again.

Felix’s hips stutter and he buries himself deep inside Sylvain, bending down and mouthing at his shoulder as he comes with a low grunt. 

Sylvain twitches underneath him, teetering on the edge, his orgasm just barely out of reach. He wants to stay here and be patient, to wait for Felix and to keep quiet, but he grinds down into the mattress minutely anyways, his hips making small, almost pathetic circles.

Felix pulls out and Sylvain whines, his voice only increasing in volume when Felix stands, walking away to return mere moments later. “Can you be patient for five seconds?” There’s a bite to his voice, and Sylvain curls his fingers into the sheets.

Felix sighs, then rests a hand on Sylvain’s hip. “Turn over.”

Sylvain rolls onto his back, looking up at Felix with wild, desperate eyes. Felix tsks, then moves his hand down and cups Sylvain’s jaw. “Look at you,” he coos. “You’re pretty like this. All ruined for me.”

There aren’t any words that Sylvain knows how to say, and there still aren’t when Felix leans down and kisses his chest, making his way slowly down until his mouth hovers just over Sylvain’s dick. Amber eyes flit up to meet Sylvain’s gaze, and Felix smiles. “Say please.”

Sylvain places a hand fumblingly on Felix’s head. “Please.”

Felix swallows him down, and it takes barely anything at all for Sylvain to arch up into him, curling fingers into inky black hair and coming down Felix’s throat. He’s quieter than he normally is, but his orgasm feels better, almost. Maybe it’s because he’s earned it.

Sylvain lets himself lay there for a moment, drifting pleasantly in the aftermath.

Felix rises, and that feeling goes away within seconds. Sylvain is exhausted, and yet a whine rips itself from his lips, and he sits bolt upright in bed. The words aren’t there, and his tongue feels like a dead thing in his mouth.

Felix stops and turns around. “Sylvain?”

Sylvain bites his bottom lip, his heartbeat suddenly thudding far too loud in his ears. “Are you leaving?”

“I was getting water.” Felix purses his lips. “Are you okay?”

It’s the second time that Felix has asked him that night, and Sylvain isn’t sure what the answer is. He opens and closes his mouth, before gathering up whatever remains of his higher functions. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Felix takes two large steps over to him, stopping at the edge of the bed. “Right.”

Sylvain shudders. He’s - sad? Sad. That’s the best word he can think of. Felix scowls, then reaches out and takes his chin in his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” Sylvain’s voice cracks. “Fuck, sorry. Just…” he trails off, then averts his eyes. There’s a terrible, awkward feeling in the room, and Sylvain’s breath seems stuck in his throat.

Felix sighs. “Right.” He climbs back into the bed, opening his arms and looking defiantly over at Sylvain. “Come here.” His cheeks are tinted pink, but Sylvain goes anyways, burying his face in the crook of Felix’s neck as strong arms surround him. “There, there.” 

It’s obvious Felix hasn’t comforted someone in a long time, but the warmth and body heat is grounding. Sylvain sighs heavily, tension bleeding slowly out of his body. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.” Felix is still, then slowly brings a hand up into Sylvain’s hair. “Should we… talk about it?”

“No.” Sylvain still doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he’s sure as hell that he doesn’t want to talk about whatever it is.

“Right.” Felix pets Sylvain’s hair softly, like he’s afraid a firmer touch may shatter Sylvain completely. “You know, all my friends thought you were going to murder me.”

Sylvain laughs quietly into Felix’s skin. “I still could.”

Felix winds his fingers deeper into Sylvain’s hair. “Sure you could.”

Sylvain’s smile is small and secret, and he hides it in the hollow of Felix’s throat. Someday, he’ll think about this feeling, hold it up to the light and dissect it until he understands it. Today, though, this is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on twitter [@edelgardlesbian](https://twitter.com/edelgardlesbian) !


End file.
